Saturday, August 13, 2011

Five Senses

Sight, Smelling, Taste, Touch, Hearing -- these are the five senses that God has blessed the human body with.  I remember lessons in school about these senses. We were usually asked which of the senses we would be willing to give up if pressed to make a choice.  They are all so important!   I do know a blind person, a deaf person, one that has never been able to smell, folks that loose their sense of taste due to cancer treatments, amputees, etc . . . . but as of now, I am still blessed with all my senses (no wise cracks Jerry).

But the really incredible phenomenon is how theses senses are combined in our inner most being with our memory bank.  Thus a smell, like freshly baked peanut butter cookies, can take you back to the fun of baking cookies with a favorite aunt.  Or the sound of thunder can take you back to a recliner in your parent’s den snuggling with your younger brother and laughing at the storm so that he would never be afraid of thunder.  Or the taste of a lemon pie can make you remember a great-aunt who would deliver a pie to you when you were ill and how that delicious pie would make you feel much better.  The touch of a little baby’s finger around yours reminds you of when your own where so tiny . . . and can it really be that many years ago?   The sight of my husband’s eyes when he is happy reminds me of a teacher’s nickname for him in school . . . “there’s ole smiley eyes”    J  

Today Jerry and I went to an estate sale.   I heard Jerry making an offer on a purchase while I was browsing around.   That was the only item we bought, and I didn’t look at what was in his bag until we got back home.  I knew he was buying it for camping – he likes to buy cheap pots and such to use over the campfire.  But when we got home, this is what he had bought . . .

And immediately ALL my five senses rushed to collide with my memory bank, and I had a sudden rush of emotion.  It was an old style coffee pot – JUST like the one my Grandmother Branyon used every morning at her house when I was growing up.  I could see the farm kitchen with the coffee pot on the stove while I sat at the large kitchen table that was in the middle of the room.  I could smell all the foods that she had cooking –normally I would spend Saturday nights at her house, and she always got up really early to cook a big Sunday meal for all the family to share after the church services.  I remember it was my “job” to watch the coffee pot and let her know when the water turned brown through the little glass knob on the top of the perking pot.  


I remember the taste of the coffee – she always gave me more cream and sugar than coffee, and would pour the steaming mixture into a cup with a saucer – and then she’d pour some from the cup into the saucer so it would cool faster and I could sip it without burning my tongue.

I could hear her cheerful voice as she labored over the meal . . . and still she managed to get us all to Sunday School early – my papa, myself, usually my sister, and my two uncles that still lived at home -- and we never missed a service.  Grandmother Branyon always supported her church and was one of those quiet, behind-the-scenes kind of laborer.  She never spoke ill of anyone – ever.  Did I also mention that my Grandmother worked full-time in the cotton mill?   Anyone want to talk about a true Proverbs 31 woman? 


I loved her very much, and one of the greatest compliments I have ever received was written in a sympathy card that was mailed to me after she passed away.   This person kindly wrote that I remind her of my grandmother.   Oh, that those words would be true.   I hope I “finish well” as she did….. “be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.” Rev 2:10  

That would fill all my senses J

1 comment:

  1. I love this post!! I find myself getting caught up in those moments when I make cinnamon buns on Saturday morning or plant flowers in the yard. :) Except instead of Grandma, it reminds me of you! Love you.

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